


A Ways to Go

by Brainblow



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - Non-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), Character Study, Friendship, Gen, Hope's Peak Academy, Self-Doubt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-11-14
Packaged: 2019-01-27 20:57:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12590372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brainblow/pseuds/Brainblow
Summary: When Ryoma Hoshi entered Hope's Peak, he didn't know why he even agreed to attend. Maybe he hoped he would find that reason to live that had evaded him ever since he threw away his family and partner. Maybe he wouldn't. Maybe his three years at Hope's Peak would be three years of being a burden on the best and the brightest the country had to offer.But it was worth a shot. He still had a ways to go, after all.





	1. Play-In

**Author's Note:**

> A longer work for a character who very much deserves it, because he's rad.

"Letter for you, Hoshi."

The diminuitive prisoner grumbled and rolled out of his cot to see a letter on the ground, just like the guard said. He scratched the back of his head before trudging over to pick up the letter. It had been quite a while since he'd gotten mail, as his former tennis club members at Fog Heights and fans stopped sending him letters months after he decided to throw his life away.

It didn't bother him. It was better this way, in fact. No need for his sorry existence to burden the lives of people with much brighter futures than him.

He skimmed the letter. It seemed that Headmaster Jin Kirigiri of Hope's Peak was looking to invite him to attend as the Ultimate Tennis Pro next April as part of the 79th class. In the midst of all the expository drivel he quickly went over the list of invited teenagers. He recognized a few names: that teen who made the news by being the youngest trainee in the space program, the magician that he overheard some of his classmates freaking out over, the maid he always saw around the prime minister...

Ryoma's mates did talk every now and then about how he should attend Hope's Peak as the Ultimate Tennis Pro. He had always brushed it off and focused on his craft, and ever since his foolish decision, the thought had never entered his mind again. 

"Well, Hoshi?"

"Hmph." He folded up the letter and placed it on the nearby table. "They must know I'm in prison. What's the point?"

"Warden told me that the academy's already filled out the paperwork to let you out. All you need to do is agree and you're a free man."

Ryoma scoffed and started making his way back to his cot. "A free man with no reason to live. Tell the academy they're wasting their time on a shell of a man."

"I'd take it if I were you."

He stopped. "Hm?"

"You know as well as I do that this is hell of an opportunity, Hoshi. That school's no joke. You may not think you have any reason to live, but why can't this be a new one?"

Ryoma stood still, staring into the ceiling. A new reason to live? The prison therapist had encouraged him to find a new one in incarceration, but he never bothered. He was on death row after all. If he could count the years to his death on one hand, what was the point?

The guard continued. "Besides, what are you going to do for the rest of your life in this place, anyway? Mope by yourself in your cell until your day comes? Don't give me that crap."

"You're awfully invested for a prison guard, you know."

"Of course I am. Do you not think you're special? Everyone in this place knows who you are and why you're here. Save us the tough guy act and seize a good opportunity when you see one."

"..."

"Hoshi?"

"Sheesh. Fine. Guess I've still got a ways to go. Tell the warden that I accept...and that he needs to hire guards that are less nosy."

Ryoma heard a loud "Heh" as the footsteps became softer and softer. He picked up the invitation letter and laid back down on his cot, lazily reading the text over and over.

He sighed. He already regretted his decision to make himself a bother to the country's most skilled and promising students, and yet he felt something...foreign swell up in his gut.

...no, foreign wasn't the right word. Lost? Forgotten? Ryoma Hoshi couldn't quite place his finger on this odd feeling, but he did know one thing for sure. He was getting himself in trouble again, just like last time. He supposed it was only natural for a troublemaker like him.

But this time, he mused, something okay might come of it. A low chance, but not zero.


	2. Introductions

They said Hope's Peak was an overwhelming sight up close, but to Ryoma it was colossal. He had been loitering outside the entrance gates for a while now; he figured he at least owed the academy to be punctual to the orientation and opening ceremony, so he showed up early. He was still getting accustomed to the getup he hadn't worn in a long time. His old jumpsuit and jacket, his favorite hat...

Admittedly, he didn't wear a chain on his ankle before, but it was his eternal reminder that no matter what, he was fated to return to prison and await execution. It was there to put things in perspective and act as a mental note for him to not get too attached. Or at least, that's what he told himself.

After taking in his surroundings for a few more minutes, he figured there wasn't much point in aimlessly hanging out much longer. Good timing, too: he already noticed some people showing up early for the formalities. Ryoma casually pushed open the gates and strolled into his assigned classroom for orientation.

As expected, he was the only one who showed up an hour early. He sat down at the seat furthest from the doors, putting his hands behind his head and his feet on the desk. The silence of the classroom invoked a powerful nostalgia in him, back in the day when he would end his training sessions with a wordless rest in a quiet room. He even caught himself almost napping, which startled him a bit. His first day back in the outside world, and he was comfortable enough to lazily sleep. At this rate, he'd go soft in no time.

He spent fifteen minutes by himself until he heard footsteps in the connecting corridor. As he glanced over at the doorway, he saw a blonde girl in pink wearing a backpack peek in and enter the classroom.

"Hi, is this where Class 79-V is?"

"Seems like it."

"Oh, okay, good, I didn't get lost." The girl perked up. "You're...Ryoma Hoshi, right? Ultimate Tennis Pro?"

Ryoma scoffed. "No."

"Huh?"

"Ryoma Hoshi, the Ultimate Tennis Pro, no longer exists. I'm but a shell of his former self."

"O-oh..." He saw the girl back up and deflate a little. She probably thought that everyone here would be a little more proud about their talent. And, well, his response may have been a bit much. Just a bit.

Silence awkwardly returned as the girl stared at the ground and Ryoma gazed at the ceiling. Eventually, the girl chimed in. "Oh, yeah...my name is Kaede Akamatsu. I'm the Ultimate Pianist." She beamed. "Nice to meet you!"

"Yeah."

"..."

"..."

"So...uh...why are you here so early, Ryoma? Orientation isn't scheduled to start for another forty minutes."

"I could ask the same to you."

"Well, you were clearly here before me. And I asked you first."

"And?"

"Oh, come on, Ryoma. Your reason can't be that strange. You can let me know."

"Hmph." He could already tell that this girl was going to be quite stubborn. "I showed up early to get situated."

"Because you've been in prison, right?"

"Oh?"

"Unless that chain is a stylistic choice."

So she's a perceptive one. "Yeah, I guess you're right. Trying to get a feel for the outside again. And you?"

"Oh, I show up to everything pretty early. Classes, practices, recitals. I'm always so worried over things that might go wrong that I always have to give myself way too much time to get anywhere." Kaede laughed nervously. "I guess that's why they call me a Piano Freak, ha..."

Ryoma didn't respond.

"Anyway, since we're going to be spending the next three years together, I hope we become the best of friends alongside our classmates!" She pulled up her arms in front of her with a confident smile on her face. He figured that it was something she did to psych herself up.

"...don't bet on it."

"Huh?"

Before Kaede could prod further, more students began filing into the classroom, which diverted her attention away from her conversation with Ryoma. He sighed. His first interaction with someone on the outside reminded him of why he was normally taciturn. He wasn't particularly bothered though, since he knew he was the odd one here. Ryoma quietly took stock of the room. It seemed as if fifteen students comprised of seven males and eight females were going to be his homeroom classmates. Eight males, including himself. A nice balance, he thought.

The start of orientation was rather humdrum. Everyone in the class got up to the front and introduced themselves one-by-one. Ryoma spent most of the time brooding over his decision, but he was paying some attention; he knew that the absolute least he could do was get first impressions, even if he was going to be alone most of the time. He was saddled with quite the colorful cast, which if nothing else made it evidently clear who to avoid. (The supreme leader's penchant for lying would make him a pain to be around, and the inventor was a walking mess of a human being.)

Ryoma was the last up. He dragged his chair with him to the front and stood on it.

"Ryoma Hoshi. Former Ultimate Tennis Pro."

He then promptly stepped down, dragged his chair back to his desk, and slumped back in his seat, staring once more out the window. He could feel everyone staring at him in confusion, but he trusted that he sent the message he intended.

He had to be honest: the view from the window was quite scenic. A much better view than he ever had from prison. And heck, maybe it was worth leaving just to see the nice complement of the lush trees and the bright sun shining from the cerulean skies.


	3. Exhibition, Part One

Ryoma couldn't quite sleep. The bed in his dorm wasn't the issue, it was certainly him. The comfort was too much, so much that he couldn't quite shake the feeling that he was being lulled into a false sense of security. Years of prison had taught him to stay vigilant and wary, especially when his day started looking up. It was usually a bad omen. His normal procedure would be to exercise alone until he tired himself out, but he was already mentally exhausted from the day's events.

* * *

 

"Could Kaede, Keebo, Himiko, and Ryoma stay after class, please?"

Ryoma was looking to close the book on orientation and his first day at Hope's Peak when he found himself leaning against a front row desk, waiting for their homeroom instructor to finish rummaging through some files. Around him, the pianist was holding her hands behind her back in polite anticipation, contrasing the stiff and awkward posture of the robot, as the magician was lazily slumped forward in a nearby desk, groaning in wait.

Eventually the sound of shuffling papers stopped. "Sorry about that, everyone. Orientation is a busy day for us teachers, as well." She laughed softly.

The robot spoke up. "Pardon me for asking. What is the reason we were told to stay?"

"Oh, yes, right. The academy does a conference every year about the new class, and we always have some of the new students showcase their talents for the press. An opening ceremony of sorts, you could say."

"So I assume we are the ones designated for this year?"

"Yes, that's right. I have the list of what you are expected to do right here."

Ryoma glanced over at the list and saw that it was handwritten. Memo from the headmaster, most likely. He thought it odd that something as important as this wasn't decided on before, but he realized that plans could change. Hell, he almost wasn't here, so he supposed it only made sense to wait until now.

"Kaede will perform a piano piece approximately five minutes long of her choice, although the headmaster did include suggestions, if you want to take them into account." She handed another piece of paper to Kaede, who studied the suggestions and started fingering the pieces from memory.

"K1-B0 will demonstrate some of his functions and take questions from the press."

The robot looked confused. "Um...functions? Which ones?"

"According to this, the professor should have sent you a list of suitable functions earlier. Did he?"

"Oh, that's what it was...I received the list after he left for the lab. I thought it strange that he would send me a list of things I already know how to do...I see. This does logically explain that."

"Himiko will perform the signature trick of the Magician's Castle, the Ambrosius Escape, and a brief card trick of her choice."

The magician sighed loudly. "Nyeeeeeeeeh...he has the Ultimate Mage at his disposal, and he wants me to do that dumb organization's one trick, like some common magician...what a pain."

The pianist patted her back. "There, there, Himiko, I'm sure you'll get a chance to show off your own magic tri- "

"It's magic!" The magician huffed as the pianist was taken aback by the sudden energy.

"Er, magic, right. You'll get a chance to show off your own magic eventually, I'm sure."

Ryoma started fidgeting, partially from the magician's fanciful tendencies, but more because the instructor seemed more interested in the scene playing out before her than letting Ryoma know his responsibilities. He coughed to check if she noticed.

"Oh, yes, sorry, Ryoma, your task is...um..." She hurriedly scanned the page to see where she left off.

"Hmph." He wasn't surprised.

"You are to return balls from two tennis ball machines alternating fire for five minutes, keeping them in as best you can."

Ryoma sighed and fiddled with his hat. He had suspected it would be a skill exhibition instead of, say, a match, but he still wondered if there was a way he could get out of this annoyance. Then again, if this was for PR, the least he could do was not tank the reputation of the academy by utterly failing. This was definitely a bother, but not so much of a bother that it was worth ruining it for all of the talented students here.

"The presser is tomorrow afternoon, after the last class of the day. If any of you have any questions, I can try to answer them or direct them to the headmaster. Otherwise, you're all free to go."

And with that, Ryoma put his hands in his jacket and strolled back to his dorm.

* * *

 

To help him fall asleep, Ryoma was pondering what to make of his predicament, and mostly why the headmaster chose him. He did have an athletic talent that was easy to display, but so did the maid. Though that maybe would have required too much setup. Surely the artist or inventor could have showcased their work? Although not seeing the process did mean that there could have been doubt over who actually was behind the work.

Then he heard a knock on the door. He was briefly surprised to see the pianist smiling at him when he opened the door, but if anyone was going to visit him, it would be the one who told him that it was her goal to be friends with everyone.

"Hi again, Ryoma! Mind if I chat with you for a while?"

"I told you, it's not a good id- " He stopped himself. He realized that he never actually did tell her the reason she shouldn't speak with him. "Fine." This was as good of an opportunity as ever.

As he sat in his chair, she sat on his bed and looked around with a slightly puzzled look on her face. "It's...quite bare, your room, isn't it?"

It was true that his room looked austere. The color of the walls and floor aside, there were no posters on the wall, no objects on display, no decorations at all; a small bag near the corner of his desk was the only sign that someone lived here.

"I don't see the need to change it."

"But - actually, you know what, that's fair. I've had people tell me to decorate my piano, and that's always rubbed me the wrong way. I suppose you could feel the same way about your room."

"Why are you here?"

"Huh?" She was taken aback by his direct question. "O-oh, uh, I just wanted to know how your practice was going. I've been so busy contemplating pieces and practicing them that I wanted to take a break and see how someone else was doing. And I've been meaning to visit you anyways."

Ryoma stared blankly at the wall. "I haven't practiced."

He heard the pianist sigh. "That's what I was afraid of."

That remark got his attention. "Hm?"

The pianist was looking at him with a solemn look on her face. "You must care enough about this academy to accept the invitation to attend. You certainly don't seem like someone who would approach something without deliberating it for a while. Are you that confident in your talent?"

He closed his eyes. "I told you. I'm but a shell of the Ultimate Tennis Pro."

"Then why won't you practice for tomorrow?"

"..."

"Is it related to why you gave us such a short introduction? To why you've kept to yourself so much?" He opened his eyes to see a face full of concern and curiosity.

...well, she was a bright lass if nothing else. Now was as good of a time as any.

"Tell me, do you know why I went to prison?"

"Um, no...is it something tennis-related? Were you caught up in a scandal?"

He looked her straight in the eyes, pulling his hat down slightly.

"I'm a killer."

He expected her to recoil, and she did seem to be startled a bit, but to his surprise, she maintained eye contact, unwavering. "Okay. That still doesn't explain everything."

"The man before you is a cowardly fool who used the talent he was given to take lives, and because of that, the second he leaves this campus, he's returning to death row to be executed for his crimes."

He stared at the floor. "That's why I haven't practiced. I don't have anything to gain from practicing the skill I've tainted, when I have no chance of living long enough to atone. And that's why I've been isolating myself, as well."

He shuffled out of his seat and stretched as he stood before the attentive pianist. "The Ryoma Hoshi you're listening to is living on borrowed time. Your future is too promising to get caught up with a man with no reason to live, no fight in him, so there's no reason to bother yourself with a killer like me."

"No, that's wrong!"

Ryoma saw the pianist's index finger pointed right at him, as if she was a witness accusing him in court.

"Ryoma, I've been listening, and I'm sorry, but I don't fully believe you. If you have no reason to live, no fight in you, like you say, then you wouldn't be here. You would still be in prison, succumbing to your fate, and yet you're here. You must be looking for some reason to live."

"Hmph. And you're suggesting what? That you could be my reason to live?"

"No, but I know you're looking, and at least to me, that's reason enough to give it your all. And even if you don't think that you can find that reason here, I think you can. I trust you, Ryoma."

"You've known me for a day and I just told you I'm a killer. You're being far too naive."

"Maybe, and I don't know why you killed someone, but I can tell you're not a bad person, so I know it must have been for a good reason."

"You're making a mistake."

"A bigger mistake than going to Hope's Peak and giving up on the first day?"

"..."

"..."

Ryoma sighed. "I'm not going to convince you otherwise, am I?"

The pianist smiled. "Nope, I'm pretty stubborn. And really, Ryoma, I think you should practice. I can't make you, of course, since you ultimately decide what you want to do, but even if you are the former Ultimate Tennis Pro, like you say, what's stopping you from reclaiming that title while you're here?"

The pianist got off of his bed and made her way to the door; Ryoma followed. Stepping outside as he held the door, she turned around. "So please, will you consider practicing for tomorrow?"

Ryoma looked to the side and adjusted his hat. "...I'll consider it."

She responded with a glowing smile. "Thanks, Ryoma. And try opening up to everyone, too. We all want to get to know you better!"

"Hah. Don't push your luck."

She laughed. "Maybe you're right. Anyway, thanks for talking with me. See you in class tomorrow!"

Ryoma watched quietly as he watched the pianist wave goodbye and energetically rush back to her dorm, most likely to continue preparing for the showcase tomorrow. He stood motionless in his doorway for a while, still processing the conversation he just had, as the cool breeze of the night brought back memories of practicing alone on the school tennis court, with naught but the sound of his practice drills and the light on the court to interrupt the enveloping, silent darkness.

"Thanks...Kaede."


	4. Exhibition, Part Two

When Ryoma came back from tennis practice, he was usually too worn out to do much of anything. It was how he always ended his day, and how he never had trouble falling asleep at night.

This night, though, his normal training partner had gone down with a cold, so he sent one of the newer club members in his stead. The kid obviously wasn't going to push Ryoma that far, so Ryoma instead decided to spend the time teaching the novice. Although the kid had quite a ways to go, his enthusiasm and determination was palpable, and Ryoma couldn't help but admire the confidence with which he bounced back from his failures. If nothing else, getting invested in seeing the kid improve helped him take his mind off the mafia's execution of his family.

...come to think of it, his training partner did say that Ryoma needed to find a way to distract himself besides tennis, since that would only remind him of why he was in this predicament in the first place. Maybe this was his own way of trying to help.

Ryoma scoffed. Figured that his bleeding heart would do something like this. Ryoma thought about telling him to mind his own business the next time he saw him, but ultimately changed his mind. He might have been right, after all; although Ryoma didn't exert himself, he still had a satisfying practice.

As such, when Ryoma was making his way back to his residence, he still had most of his energy, but he didn't mind. He mentally shrugged it off as a break and resolved to double the intensity of his solo practice drills.

In hindsight, he should have known that it was a bad omen.

After walking into his apartment and feeding his cat dinner, Ryoma noticed a small white envelope on his desk. He immediately stiffened. He definitely did not put that there, and if this was an average piece of mail, it would have been left on his front door.

He quickly dropped all of his gear and rushed to the envelope. There was no writing or postage on it, and at first glance it would seem to be an unused envelope, were it not for the fact that it was sealed. Ryoma ran through what it could possibly be in his head, but stopped after he considered that it could be the worst case scenario. He ripped open the envelope.

It was the worst case scenario.

Inside the envelope was a photo of his girlfriend, slumped onto a desk, dead, with blood all over the table. She was shot in the back of the head. There was no way she could have reacted. This was clearly a quick, routine affair. They were likely in and out within minutes.

He flipped the photo over. There was a message neatly written in red ink.

"A real shame this wasn't you. Don't you think she agrees?"

* * *

 

When Ryoma woke up, he was clutching the bed sheet in both of his hands and adrenaline was coursing throughout his body. In the rush, he was unable to comprehend anything until he realized the situation he was in. As his hands gradually lost strength on their own, he slumped on the edge of his bed and held his head in his hands.

Every night like clockwork. He would have this exact same nightmare, and as he was about to grab his racket and ball in silent rage, he would wake up in a dissociative state. It happened every single night, year after year, and yet the spectre of that day's events haunted him just as easily as it did the first time.

He grumbled and started getting dressed. He didn't have to check the clock on the wall to know it was three in the morning, since he always woke up around that time. Normally, he would lie back on his bed and pass the time until morning roll call, but he wasn't in prison anymore. He contemplated taking a stroll around the campus, but he remembered his promise to Kaede.

...no, it wasn't a promise, he said he would consider it. But he knew that she expected him to give it a go, and he certainly didn't have anything better to do, so Ryoma sighed and started making his way to the athletic facility before the sun rose. It would get Kaede off of his case, at the very least.

* * *

 

Even as someone who had long since forsaken his tennis playing past, Ryoma couldn't help but be amazed at what Hope's Peak made available to him. All of the balls were of the highest quality, the court was pristine yet had the feel of a tried-and-true court, and the rackets were the latest model from Ryoma's old brand of choice. Hell, they were even stringed just the way he liked it. He was impressed, but just a bit frustrated over how many resources they poured into something that would have gone unappreciated by the coward he was.

Ryoma stepped onto the court with his right foot and starting volleying with the opposite wall to try and get back to form. It was surprising how much came back to Ryoma. He could still serve, return, volley about as well as he used to back in the day; even his signature backhand smash came back naturally to him. It was annoying, actually. He tried so hard to give up his tainted talent, going for days not even once thinking about the satisfying whizz of a racket or the pitter-patter of a long rally, and this was his reward. It was as if he had gone a couple of weeks without practicing, and it irritated him.

Grumbling, he figured that he had warmed up enough and made his way to the tennis ball machine, setting it to shoot a ball every five seconds. As the balls began shooting across the court, he made his way to the other side and closed his eyes, focusing. After getting down the pattern of the ball sounds, he opened his eyes and rushed into the trajectory of the tennis balls.

First return went in.  
Second return went in. The ball was an inch away from being out.  
Third return went in.  
Fourth return went in.  
Fifth return went out. He cursed.  
Out.  
In.  
In. This one almost grazed his shoulder, but he quickly performed the Shukuchi method to reorient himself and return the shot.  
In.  
In.  
Out. He cursed again.  
Out.  
Out. A few inches forward and it would have been in.  
In.  
In.  
In.  
Miss.

In his brief anger he lost concentration, which allowed the next shot to hit him square in the chest, which made him drop his racket and double over. After a couple of seconds, he struggled back up and hobbled his way back to the machine, turning it off.

Still feeling the sting of the ball, he then plopped himself on top of the nearby bench to recover from the impact. After breathing heavily for a few minutes, he started chuckling. What was he doing, the sorry shell that he was, trying to reclaim the life he knew he was never going to get back again, by getting himself hurt well before sunrise? He knew it was profoundly stupid, and this would have never happened to the old Ryoma Hoshi that smashed international tournaments regularly. Yet the pain reminded him of his earlier days, when his overzealousness and lack of experience got him injured time and time again.

Was it possible that this pain was giving him nostalgia? Ryoma sat there on the bench and pondered it for a while. Perhaps, but more importantly, this injury meant that he was still quite rusty, and he still had a ways to go. Maybe all that effort to forget about tennis wasn't for nothing, then.

After the pain of the impact subsided, Ryoma once again started up the tennis ball machine and scurried back to the other side, this time with a smallest smirk on his face.

* * *

 

After classes had ended for the day, Ryoma found himself making his way to the gym alongside Kaede, Himiko, and Keebo to prep for the press conference. Kaede was holding sheets of music in her hands while fingering the notes with resolute focus, Himiko was wearing a cape and wearily stumbling along with a staff in her hand, and Keebo was nervously fidgeting all the while.

When they entered the gym, everyone except Ryoma was immediately taken aback by the size of the gym. Preparations were underway, as custodians were setting up rows upon rows of chairs, along with the podium for the headmaster and the panel for the board members. In the corner, Ryoma could spot a grand piano, two tennis ball machines and a racket, and a bunch of miscellaneous props, probably for Himiko to use.

Keebo was the first to speak. "Oh dear, this is...quite the large room. This is certainly larger than I was expecting."

"Well, of course, I'd imagine most outlets throughout the nation would want to cover the best school in the nation," Kaede chimed.

"I suppose you are right...in hindsight, this scale is certainly logical, if of little reassurance...."

"Nyeeeeeeeeh...they're asking me to do that trick for an audience that can fit in here? What a pain."

Keebo recoiled in shock. "You've performed at larger places?"

As Himiko started regaling tales of her past performances to an attentive Keebo, Ryoma noticed out of the corner of his eyes that Kaede was looking around the gym with a pout on her face.

"Something wrong, Kaede?"

"Mmmph." Kaede crossed her arms in a huff. "The acoustics of this room aren't great. I know that it would be too much to move the conference to the music room, but my performance would sound so much better there."

"Heh. Does it bother you that much?"

"Not that much, but playing the piano is more than just hitting the keys right, you know? The piano has to be right, and the orientation has to be right, and the room has to be right..." Kaede sighed. "Oh well, guess I'll just have to adapt and play differently from how I practiced. This is why I am the Ultimate Pianist, after all."

"Good for you, then."

"What about you, Ryoma? Have you practiced?"

"...yeah." Ryoma averted his gaze and grabbed his hat. "This morning."

Without looking up Ryoma could feel Kaede beaming with happiness. "Oh, really? That's great! I knew you would come around."

"Yeah, yeah. But this doesn't mean I've embraced my talent. I'm still just the shell of the Ultimate Tennis Pro."

"But I bet it felt great practicing again, right?"

"Hmph."

Kaede giggled. Such an insistent girl.

Eventually someone in a suit noticed the four students and sheparded them into a section of the gym to get in some practice before the press conference. Ryoma grabbed the racket and considered firing up one of the machines or volleying against the gym wall, but decided that the noise would disrupt his classmates and ended up practicing his form and technique. And after an hour or so of practice, the students were guided to their seats behind the podium as reporters started filing into the gym.

* * *

 

As Headmaster Kirigiri opened the presser, Ryoma grumbled over all the hubbub of the press. One thing he definitely didn't miss during his prison stay was the noise of school assemblies and large masses of people in general. And just being near the board members, who were all sitting in a row next to him and the others, made him feel stuffy. As the headmaster started introducing the board members, who made their way to the panel, Ryoma found himself zoning out and leafing through the pamphlet. Kaede was to go first, then Keebo, then him, then Himiko.

He looked at his classmates. Kaede was calm, smiling and looking toward the headmaster, likely aware that she was partially in the public eye. Keebo was also looking toward the headmaster, but anxiously playing with his fingers at the same time. Himiko, meanwhile, was on the edge of dozing off as she leaned against her staff.

After each of the board member's opening statements concluded, Headmaster Kirigiri spoke up. "Now, without further ado, I present to you the Hope's Peak Academy Ultimate Talent Exhibition, courtesy of students from this year's 79th Class."

The headmaster turning his head and extending his arm toward the four of them meant it was their cue to stand up and bow as the reporters applauded. As he looked at the sea of people in the audience, Ryoma couldn't help but think that they could have gotten someone a bit more...photogenic than him to perform.

Kaede was then promptly introduced, and she made her way to the piano, leaving her sheet music at her seat. Ryoma was about to say something, but realized that Kaede had probably memorized the piece, as an Ultimate Pianist probably should.

She bowed once more, sat down, adjusted her seat, and quickly stretched her fingers. She rested her fingers on the keys in silence for a few seconds with a look of solemn determination, eyes closed, before smiling and playing the piece with elegance. Even as someone with little interest in music, Ryoma watched and listened with fascination as he saw Kaede command the performance with a powerful elegance, powerful enough to even draw Himiko's attention. He took a glance at the sheet music she left at her seat: _Première Arabesque_ by Claude Debussy. Good to know, he supposed.

Five minutes passed with ease as Kaede concluded the piece just as gracefully as she had started it, prompting a standing ovation from everyone, Ryoma and the students included. After another bow, she made her way back to her seat.

Himiko was the first to speak up. "That was...really good, Kaede."

Keebo concurred. "I agree. I have heard this piece before digitally, yet my sensors are indicating that your performance was much more aurally pleasing."

"Well, that's the power of live music for you," Kaede said.

Ryoma chimed in. "Still, nice job. Quite the performance."

"Thanks, Ryoma." She shot him a smile, and Ryoma smirked. She might be nosy, but he could admire her skill and confidence. It was two things he didn't have, at any rate.

Keebo's exhibition was up next. Ryoma didn't know what to expect, since it seemed like Keebo was just a run-of-the-mill teenager who happened to be a robot, but by the questions the reporters were asking, it seemed as if that itself was a technological marvel. Though from little he knew about tech, he could see how emulating human life could be impressive by itself.

...even if it was as simple as responding to hypothetical scenarios and demonstrating pattern recognition. Ryoma simply shrugged and leaned back in his chair, writing it off as being too complicated for him to appreciate.

When Keebo finished, he came back to his seat with a look of disappointment on his face.

"Why the long face, Keebo?" Kaede asked. "You did just fine. The audience is really buzzing over how amazing you are, after all."

"Perhaps, but I did not do anything unexpected of a human being. I initially thought I was to showcase features like my audio playback and photographic memory recall, but they seemed to be satisfied with mundane tasks." Keebo frowned. "That I am the Ultimate Robot because of my ability to pass as a human is truly disconcerting."

Kaede reassured him. "I'm sure that you'll be able to the real potential of the Ultimate Robot eventually, Keebo. It'll be fine, okay?" She raised her forearms with a confident smile.

"I suppose you are correct, Kaede. Thank you. Oh, and I believe Ryoma is next?"

"Hmph." Ryoma hopped out of his seat and slinked into the spotlight as the tennis ball machines and court markers were put into place. As he got into position and oriented himself around the markers, he was thankful that there was so much space in the gym, since otherwise the likelihood of one of the balls ricocheting and hitting someone would have spiked.

He saw a man behind both tennis ball machines, who seemed to be waiting for his signal to start. After taking a few practice swings and bounding side-to-side a few times, Ryoma nodded at him.

First return went in.  
Second return went in. He remembered that the rate was effectively doubled, since there were two machines, so he mentally upped the intensity.  
Third return went in. It was just in the corner, since he just managed to hit it with a backhand.  
Fourth return went in. It was near the center, but his forehand was sloppier than he would have liked.  
In.  
In.  
In. It was then that Ryoma realized he didn't know how many balls he would have to return in five minutes.  
In. Gritting his teeth, he simply pledged to keep going until either the five minutes ended or he did.  
In.

It was around then that Ryoma entered a trance, a trance he used to be able to enter on command. His mind was cleared of all thought besides where the ball was, where the ball needed to go, and how to move his body. He became a blur as he returned the balls in one continuous motion, never stopping, never remaining still, with the only constant being the look of grim determination on his face, as if he were possessed. Ball after ball went in as he started performing the Shukuchi technique to orient himself exactly where he wanted and swung the racket with impeccable form.

This went on for minutes until he spotted a lob shot. In response, he utilized his lower body strength to leap off of the ground, spun 180 degrees to build momentum, and swung his racket down, clobbering the ball into the ground with an aerial backhand smash, and landed on his feet in preparation of the next shot, which never came.

He had done it. He had gone the full five minutes without letting a single return go out, let alone missing.

Ryoma couldn't notice the crowd and his classmates clapping from the display; all that he could hear was his pained panting and a buzz ringing through his head as the effort he exerted came back with a vengeance. In truth, he was disappointed in himself. He had gone up against so much worse and still succeeded, and yet he was absolutely winded from what was little more than a more intense training exercise. When he eventually recovered and could properly take in what was going on, he silently walked back to his seat, drenched in sweat.

Kaede was clearly impressed. "Wow, Ryoma, that was really cool! I don't think anyone can deny that you're the Ultimate Tennis Pro after that kind of show!"

"Heh...that...should have been...nothing...I'm still nothing more than a has-been."

Before Kaede could argue, Himiko was already making her way up to perform her magic, so she left Ryoma alone. He was grateful. Talking to her was already somewhat tiring, and in the exhausted and irritated state he was in, nothing good would have come from it.

It was a good thing Himiko was the final act, as well, since it meant that he could stop contemplating and just take in her act. For a girl normally so lackadaisical, she certainly had a knack for entertainment, and with all the enthuastic and dramatic flair she put into her opening card trick, you would be forgiven for thinking that she was like this all the time. It was outright jarring.

And that escape was...something else. In his daze, Ryoma couldn't even begin to fathom how she pulled that off.

As Himiko struck her final pose and the press erupted in applause, Headmaster Kirigiri invited all of the students back up and called for a round of applause. After all four bowed at once, they made their exit from the gym as the headmaster and board members stayed to answer questions.

"Nyeeeh, I'm tired. I want to go to bed."

Kaede laughed. "I don't think anyone is going to say no to you after that, Himiko. Great show. Great job for everyone, actually. I think we did really well."

"Yes, it would appear so, if the noise from the press is to be believed," Keebo said. "Though I concur with Himiko. My battery is running lower than I would like. I shall be taking off, then."

Himiko and Keebo gave their goodbyes, which left Kaede and Ryoma by themselves in the slight breeze outside the gym.

Ryoma spoke up. "Aren't you going to make your way back as well?"

"Yeah, I promised to meet up with Shuichi after the presser. But I just wanted to thank you again for practicing and taking this seriously. You killed it out there."

"Killed, huh?"

Kaede gasped. "Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to..."

"Hah, it's fine. I know what you meant. And this wasn't for me, anyway. It was for all of you."

"Us?"

"Of course. I don't care what others think of me, but I wouldn't forgive myself if I let everyone think worse of you all just because I wasn't carrying my own weight." Ryoma scoffed. "Even if I should have been less tired after that than I was."

"'Should have'? Oh, so you think you can do better, is that it? Do you care about tennis again?"

"What are you..." Ryoma paused. Dammit. He never thought he would have to admit that he still felt that drive, even after years of trying to smother it out.

"Well, Ryoma?"

"Hmph. Tennis is more than just returning the ball, you know. It's also about wearing your opponent down physically and mentally before they do the same to you. Can't do that against a machine."

"Sure, but you know as well as I do that your last hit didn't need to be that showy, Ryoma. Admit it, you miss playing tennis a lot."

He stared at the ground. "...you have a point. But I can't pretend like I haven't committed the crimes I have in the way I did. Those memories will never leave."

"So why can't you make new memories?"

Ryoma looked into Kaede's face, a face of compassion and acceptance. "No one is asking you to wash away your past, to wash away the bad memories. But why stop yourself from creating good memories? Are you afraid of hurting someone again? You clearly still enjoy playing tennis, so if it's not harming anyone else anymore, why stop yourself?"

"..." Ryoma fiddled with his hat, finding himself unable to answer her questions.

"I understand if you still have reservations. After all, I can't even begin to imagine what you've been through. But I just want you to know that no one will think any less of you for picking up your old hobby again, and I'm certain that you won't hurt anyone playing tennis again, so please don't worry about us, okay, Ryoma?"

"How do you know all of this for sure, Kaede?"

"It's a hunch."

"A hunch, huh..." Ryoma sighed. "You're something else, trying to encourage a criminal to go back to his murderous habits based on a hunch. But you're right. There's merit to giving it another try." He scoffed. "You really are quite a strange girl."

Kaede smiled at him. "If that's what it takes to help a friend out, I'm okay with that."

"Heh. Of course you would." He smirked. "I'll be going now. Thanks, Kaede. See you later."

"No problem, Ryoma. Later!" She waved at him as he casually raised his hand back, slinking off back to his dorm.

After showering and getting dressed to sleep, he realized that he had brought back the racket from the gym. He contemplated going back to the facility to return it, but instead decided to claim it as his. It was responsible for his renewed interest in tennis, after all, and he doubted anyone would mind the former Ultimate Tennis Pro taking ownership of a racket.

The last thing Ryoma did before going to sleep was rest his racket against his backpack.


End file.
